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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24113752">We Come in All Shapes and Sizes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanukoYoukai/pseuds/HanukoYoukai'>HanukoYoukai</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Happy Mother's Day!, Kid Peter Parker, Mother's Day, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:28:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24113752</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanukoYoukai/pseuds/HanukoYoukai</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“May,” Peter began, rubbing his finger against the edge of the table. “Are we supposed to celebrate Mother’s day?"</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“What do you mean, sweetheart?”</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Peter huffed and leaned back, folding his arms. “Well—well you’re not my mom. You’re my aunt. So are we allowed? Or is it just for moms?” He worried his lip and raised his wide brown eyes, locking them onto May. “That’s—that’s what the kids at school say. That I’m not supposed to celebrate because you’re just my aunt.” May thought very carefully about her answer.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“What do you think a mom does?” she asked.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben Parker/May Parker (Spider-Man), May Parker (Spider-Man) &amp; Peter Parker, Peter Parker &amp; Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>91</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>We Come in All Shapes and Sizes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Mother's Day, everyone!</p><p>May Parker is my favorite mom, so this fic is a little self-indulgent. I feel like she is an underappreciated character and I love her to pieces, so here is a little tribute to her. </p><p>Hope you all enjoy! Please leave a kudos if you were entertained, and a comment to let me know your thoughts. Comments are love!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Pete, come on, buddy.”</p><p> </p><p>“No!”</p><p> </p><p>“Peter. Talk to me. What happened?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to!”</p><p> </p><p>“Did something happen at school?”</p><p> </p><p>“Go away!”</p><p> </p><p>May sighed, carefully rolling out three ropes from the dough that had just finished proving. She wasn’t sure what made her decide to make <em>Challah</em> on a whim, but when Peter ran straight for his room after school with Ben trailing behind him, she was glad for the sudden inspiration. <em>Challah </em>was one of Peter’s favorites. If Ben couldn’t get him to come out, the smell of bread baking in the oven would.</p><p> </p><p>Her husband wandered into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, watching her braid the three ropes together. She glanced up and him and noticed the worried line between his brows.</p><p> </p><p>“Is he okay?” she asked. Ben shrugged and looked out the small kitchen window.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s not talking to me,” Be replied, gruffly. “We walked from the bus stop to here in silence.”</p><p> </p><p>May winced. “That bad, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t even know what I did,” Ben said, perplexed. “I thought he was sulking about something, so I mentioned how we can go shopping soon for this weekend. He usually perks up when he gets to go pick out gifts.” May smiled. Mother’s Day was coming up, and Peter always got excited about giving presents. “But instead of talking to me about what he wanted to get you, he ran away from me! I had to chase after him all the way to the door.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm,” May hummed, setting the dough aside. “Maybe the kids said something at school. Remember last month around Passover, when all the kids were talking about Easter plans, and they picked on Peter because he didn’t really understand what they were talking about?” Ben scowled when she brought it up. She framed his face with her flour covered hands and leaned up to kiss him on the nose. His mouth twitched a little in a smile as he held her close to him. “Maybe they’re teasing him about his shoes or clothes again, and he’s doing that thing he does, where he worries about money.”</p><p> </p><p>It baffled May how much Peter paid attention to their finances. He often worried about bills and rent and the boy was vocal about it. It got to the point where May had started hiding the bills when she got home, and made sure to shut the door when talking to Ben about any past due notices. That winter had been hard on them, but now Ben was getting plenty of work, and the extra money from their tax return had been put aside in case another Magneto-related disaster happened. That had been a learning experience, and not one May was willing to repeat.</p><p> </p><p>“Again?” Ben asked, releasing her. She smiled and went back to her dough, covering it so it could rise. “That kid,” he mumbled. She looked back to watch him shaking his head, a worried frown on his face. When he spotted her looking at him, he schooled his expression and gave her a smile. “Hey, you’re not—uh—cooking tonight, are you?”</p><p> </p><p>May rolled her eyes, moving to the sink to wash her hands. “Ben.”</p><p> </p><p>“I just mean I had planned on chicken stew tonight. You both love my chicken stew,” he added, smile turning to a grin.</p><p> </p><p>“You are ridiculous,” May said, shaking her head and drying her hands on a nearby dish towel. “And a little underprepared. I mean, I saw stuff in here for spaghetti, but nothing for stew,” she said, nudging her head toward the refrigerator. “Are you sure you were planning stew?”</p><p> </p><p>Ben pressed a hand over his heart. “What are you saying? I don’t like the accusation in your tone.”</p><p> </p><p>May laughed. “Well go on,” she said waving him out of the kitchen. “Go buy the stuff for stew. I’ll do spaghetti tomorrow.” Ben grinned and kissed her on the cheek, but his smile slipped when he looked back at Peter’s bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry,” she said. “Go get groceries. And run some errands while you’re at it,” she lowered her voice. “The power bill is due, and so is the garbage, but I deposited my check today, so we’re good to go. I’ve got Peter.” Ben nodded and gave May a kiss before leaving, grabbing their canvas grocery bags on the way out. After Ben was gone a few minutes, she ventured back to Peter’s room. A poster of Captain America was hanging on the outside of his door below a cardboard sign with the word’s “Peter’s Room,” written in a childish scrawl.</p><p> </p><p>May drew a steadying breath and knocked on the door.</p><p> </p><p>“Go away, Ben!”</p><p> </p><p>May shook her head, frowning. “Sweetie? It’s me. Can I come in?” She was met with silence. She waited a few moments before trying again. “Honey?”</p><p> </p><p>After another lengthy pause, Peter responded. “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>May twisted the knob and entered the room. Peter’s bag was in the middle of the floor, and Peter was lying on his bed, back facing her. May watched as he slowly picked at the lose threads of his blue comforter. She sat down on the small chair in front of his desk. “So how was school?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it,” Peter muttered, not turning to face her.</p><p> </p><p>May smiled. “Okay. Do you want to talk about the bus? Or recess? I know you and Ned had a fun game planned today.” Peter just shuffled a little in response. “Are you hungry?” Peter shook his head. May stood up and moved closer to him, pausing at his bed. “Can I sit here?”</p><p> </p><p>Peter shrugged, but scooted over some, making room for his aunt. May sat down at the edge of the bed and rubbed his back.</p><p> </p><p>“If you don’t want to talk, it’s okay,” she said. Peter sighed. “Are you hungry? I can get you apples and peanut butter.” Peter shook his head. May tried to keep from frowning. Her chest was tight at the sight of her boy in such distress. She knew from experience that Peter was stubborn. He would come to them when he was ready, and not a moment before. “Alright, honey. Don’t forget you need to start your homework at four o’clock.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t have any homework,” Peter mumbled. May picked up his school bag and pulled out the folder, smiling at the gold-star stickered worksheets.</p><p> </p><p>“You finished in class?” she asked. Peter hummed in confirmation and May set his folder on his desk and hung his bag on the back of his chair. “Okay, then, sweetie. If you need me, I’ll be out there, okay?” Peter shrugged again and May left the room, holding in her sigh until the door was shut behind her. She moved out into the open space wondering what she should do while she waited. The apartment was oddly quiet for a Thursday afternoon. May spotted her crossword on the end table by the couch. She picked it up and returned to the kitchen, setting a timer for when the bread would finish rising. Then, she settled down in a chair at the kitchen table, resigned to wait.</p><p> </p><p>After the longest hour of her life, May leapt from her seat when her timer went off. She was happy to finally have something she was able to do. She left Peter to his devices, but paused outside of his door a few times to see if she could hear his distress. Peter was silent the whole time. She couldn’t focus on her crossword, and there was nothing good on television to distract her. Finishing the bread gave her something to concentrate on.</p><p> </p><p>May preheated her oven and grabbed a dish and an egg from the refrigerator. After she unwrapped her bread, she whisked up an egg-wash. She brushed the mixture onto the top of the loaf, then rinsed her dishes in the sink. Just as she finished up, the oven beeped. May grabbed her loaf and put it in the oven, setting her timer again. After she was finished, she returned to her crossword, somewhat despondently. The whole task took less time than she would have liked. She tapped her pen against the page before her, trying to ignore the worry that settled in her heart.</p><p> </p><p>Soon, the smell of baking bread started to filter through the apartment and May smiled. That smell always relaxed her. She hummed a little while she worked on her puzzle.</p><p> </p><p>“May?”</p><p> </p><p>May lifted her head and looked around. Peter was standing in the kitchen, rubbing at his eye and sniffing the air. “What’cha making?”</p><p> </p><p>May smiled at him. “Can you guess?”</p><p> </p><p>“It smells like bread,” he said, yawning a little. He sat down in the spare seat beside May.</p><p> </p><p>May closed her crossword. “You got it, champ. I’m making <em>Challah</em> to go with dinner tonight. Uncle Ben decided to make stew.” Peter’s eyes widened and he smiled a little.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yum!” Peter looked over at the oven in delight. When he turned back, he glanced up at May before settling his gaze on the table.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you hungry?” May asked. Peter shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“I can wait for dinner,” he replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” May said, folding her hands together in her lap. She looked at the top of Peter’s bowed head, pressing her lips together. She always had the urge to prod Peter when he was like this, but she knew waiting would be the best way for him to speak. Finally, her efforts paid off.</p><p> </p><p>“May,” Peter began, rubbing his finger against the edge of the table. “Are we supposed to celebrate Mother’s Day?”</p><p> </p><p>May frowned and leaned forward slightly, surprised by the question. They had been celebrating it for the last three years. If she had known Peter felt uncomfortable doing it, she wouldn’t have been hurt. She knew their circumstances weren’t the most usual, after all.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean, sweetheart?”</p><p> </p><p>Peter huffed and leaned back, folding his arms. “Well—well you’re not my mom. You’re my aunt. So are we allowed? Or is it just for moms?” He worried his lip and raised his wide brown eyes, locking them onto May. “That’s—that’s what the kids at school say. That I’m not supposed to celebrate because you’re just my aunt.”</p><p> </p><p>May smiled to swallow back tears. Her heart hurt at the words coming out of Peter’s mouth. She may not have birthed him, but damn it, Peter was her kid and no one could tell her differently. To hear the cruelty that Peter was hearing about their relationship from his own peers was heartbreaking. Good God, it was the new millennium! Their situation may not be the norm, but it wasn’t uncommon.</p><p> </p><p>May thought very carefully about her answer, working hard to keep the hurt at bay. Peter was just asking a genuine question, and didn’t understand how the words might be painful to hear.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you think a mom does?” May asked.</p><p> </p><p>Peter furrowed his eyebrows as he thought of his answer. “Um—a mom loves you and takes care of you, and feeds you and plays games with you,” he paused, still thinking. “I think—I think she helps you when your scared, too, and maybe makes pancakes for breakfast sometimes.”</p><p> </p><p>May smiled at him, wanting to scoop him up in a hug. “Okay. So what do I do?”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?” Peter asked, raising his eyebrows.</p><p> </p><p>“You just told me what a mom does. What do I do?”</p><p> </p><p>Peter stared at her for a second before giving her a shy smile. “You do—you do all that stuff.” His face fell a little. “But, May, why do you do that stuff if you’re not my mom?”</p><p> </p><p>May held out her hands over the table, waiting for Peter to drop his in hers. She held them and held her eyes with his, making sure he was listening.</p><p> </p><p>“Sweetheart, you might call me May, but to me, you’re my kid, okay? Your my baby boy, my son. I will always, always do the things a mom does, because that’s what a mom does for her kid.”</p><p> </p><p>Peter blinked and stood up from the table, running around and throwing himself at her for a hug. May held him tightly, rocking him back and forth. “We don’t have to celebrate Mother’s Day if you don’t want,” May said.</p><p> </p><p>“I want to,” Peter said quietly. “May, why did they say we couldn’t celebrate? Why do they think you’re not my mom?”</p><p> </p><p>May rubbed his back. “I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe they don’t know what a mom does. Or maybe they don’t know that there are all different kinds of moms, and now that they met you and see another kind of mom, they don’t want to change their minds.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s stupid,” Peter mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“It is,” May agreed, “but people are stubborn. But that doesn’t mean we have to do anything different. We’re a family, just a different kind.”</p><p> </p><p>“What kind of family are we?” Peter asked, leaning back to look her in the face. May thought about it, slowly nodding her head when she came up with an answer.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re a flock.”</p><p> </p><p>“A flock?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” May grinned. “We love each other and take care of each other and help each other, and we’re together because we found each other.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh,” Peter said, looking thoughtful. The timer beeped. Peter smiled. “I’m glad you found me, May.”</p><p> </p><p>May grinned, ignoring the timer for just a moment. “I’m glad you found me too, Peter.”</p><p> </p><p>That Sunday, May woke up to the smell of bagels warming in the oven. She grinned and stretched, then rolled out of bed. She wandered into the kitchen, looking for the coffee she was certain Bed had brewed, then stopped short at what she saw.</p><p> </p><p>In the center of the table was a prettily constructed hanging decoration, made entirely of paper cranes. Some loose ones were scattered around the table.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you like it?” Peter asked, sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter. Ben stood over the stove, carefully smearing cream cheese on the bagels he just pulled from the oven.</p><p> </p><p>“This is beautiful, Peter!” May exclaimed, pressing her hands to her mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Ben helped,” Peter said. “He helped me fold the cranes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Peter had to teach me how,” Ben said with a chuckle. “You can tell the difference between who did what, believe me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I love it honey,” she said, grabbing Peter up in a hug. He giggled as she swung him around. “This is the best Mother’s Day present! Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Peter snuggled his face into her hair. “Love you,” he said softly, gripping her tighter.</p><p> </p><p>“I love you, too.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“This is boring.” May paused, peeking around the corner to one of the communal areas of the compound. Tony stopped short behind her and followed her lead with a raised brow.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” Peter and Morgan were sitting together at the coffee table, folding tons of tiny paper cranes. “Your mom will love it, though.”</p><p> </p><p>“Daddy’s gonna take me to the florist and I get to pick all the flowers that will go in Mommy’s bouquet,” Morgan said, a tad smugly. May cast a glance at Tony, who at least had the grace to look a little sheepish. He shrugged in response.</p><p> </p><p>Peter was shaking his head, laughing a little. “You know, Morgs, that sounds like a really cool gift.” Morgan preened at his words. He reached over and ruffled her hair. “But your mom is like, one of the best moms. Shouldn’t she get two gifts?”</p><p> </p><p>“Smooth,” Tony mumbled. May pressed her hand against her lips to keep from laughing.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess so,” Morgan replied. “I like all the colors,” she allowed. Peter laughed as they continued folding. “How do you know she’ll like it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I did something like this for May when I was your age, for Mother’s Day,” he replied. “She still says it’s her favorite present. When we un-blipped, she was worried that it was lost forever.”</p><p> </p><p>“Was it?” Morgan asked, nervously.</p><p> </p><p>Peter shook his head. “Nope. Tony kept all our stuff from the apartment. She was really happy to get it back.”</p><p> </p><p>“Peter, you gave it to May for Mother’s Day?” she asked. Peter nodded. “So is May your mom?”</p><p> </p><p>May sighed. It seemed like Peter would be plagued with questions like this his entire life, even from those closest to him. She wondered how he would answer.</p><p> </p><p>“Yep,” Peter said easily, folding another crane. May blinked, a little surprised to hear the quick confirmation.</p><p> </p><p>“But I thought she was your aunt,” Morgan said, bemused.</p><p> </p><p>Peter put his crane down and looked at Morgan, considering the statement. “Well, I guess she’s an extra special mom, for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, May found me when I needed a mom.” May felt her eyes begin to water as her throat tightened. “She found me, and she loved me and protected me and kept me safe, so even though she’s my aunt, she’s my mom, too.” May quickly wiped her eyes, but she was spotted. Tony gave her a one-armed hug and she relaxed slightly in the friendly embrace, completely amazed at how her kid turned out.</p><p> </p><p>Morgan screwed up her face at the explanation. “That’s really weird, Peter.” Peter laughed and nudged her playfully.</p><p> </p><p>“I guess it is, but I like being weird. It’s boring to be normal all the time, isn’t it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Morgan agreed, “super boring. Hey, when we’re done, can I see the homework you’re doing? Dad said you needed to use the lab to work on your project.”</p><p> </p><p>May stepped away from the scene, and Tony shook his head, following.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, May, what did you expect him to say?” Tony asked as they walked down the hallway, grinning.</p><p> </p><p>May chuckled. “He’s the best kid. I don’t know what I did to deserve him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, he made it pretty clear, don’t you think?” Tony asked, shrugging.</p><p> </p><p>“Tony, raising that boy was something any decent person would do.”</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Tony said, shaking his head. “Sheltering him is something any decent person would do. Raising him? Raising him to have that kind of love and optimism and all that fluffy crap? That takes a parent, which is exactly what you are.”</p><p> </p><p>“Stop it,” May said, nudging him. “You’re gonna make me all weepy.”</p><p> </p><p>“I just call it like I see it,” Tony offered, nonchalantly.</p><p> </p><p>“May!” May turned around and opened her arms when Peter came dashing into the room. “Friday just told me you were here,” he said, hugging her tightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey there, college-man,” she said. Peter had a couple of inches on her now. She could hardly believe how much he’d grown. “How are classes treating you? Is your roommate giving you trouble?”</p><p> </p><p>Peter laughed as he pulled away. “Johnny’s cool, May. Did you know he’s related to Dr. Richards? He’s his brother-in-law, isn’t that crazy? And he told me about this crazy project Dr. Richards is in charge of where. He’d designing an exploration mission for a space-anomaly. It sounds so cool!”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been to space,” Tony reminded. Peter gave Tony a hug as well, as if he just noticed him. May got the feeling she might need to talk to Tony about how much lab time he was invested in, again.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I guess. Didn’t really explore any anomalies though,” he smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“You went to another planet,” Tony spluttered as he was released. Peter laughed and turned his attention back to May, holding his hand, clasped in a loose fist, in front of her. May rolled her eyes and put her hand underneath his, and grinned when she saw a yellow paper crane dropped into her palm.</p><p> </p><p>“For me?” she asked, fingering the delicate bird.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah,” Peter said, grinning. “I’m helping Morgan make some, and thought you might like one, too.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re so sweet, honey,” May grinned. “I love you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Love you too, May,” Peter replied, hugging her again. “I have to go back and help some more, before she starts tearing up the paper. Are you staying over?”</p><p> </p><p>May nodded. “Yeah, honey. I’m staying for dinner and for the night. I figured we could drive down to Queens together tomorrow.”</p><p> </p><p>Peter nodded. “Sure thing,” he said, letting her go and heading back to Morgan. “See you at dinner!”</p><p> </p><p>May watched him disappear from sight, paper crane still cupped in her hand. Maybe she was an unusual mom by most people’s standards. In the end, that didn’t matter.</p><p> </p><p>After all, she had the best kid.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fun Writing Notes:</p><p>1. Peter is about 8 in the first part of this fic. </p><p>2. At the age Peter is for this fic, if we pay any attention to the MCU timeline (we don't have to, but I kind of was), there were no Avengers before Peter was like, 10, except for Captain America, and I could see Peter really admiring Steve Rogers. </p><p>3. I'm pretty sure in all my fics that feature Tony and May, I have Tony reminding May that she's Peter's mom. I don't know why I do this... I guess I just want other people to recognize it, and he's the best one to verbally convey the "found family" message. </p><p>Don't forget to leave a comment or kudos. It's the only recognition I get from this, and I always appreciate it!</p><p>Hope you all enjoyed! Happy Mother's Day to all of you!</p><p>Come over and holler at me, <a href="https://hanuko.tumblr.com/">@hanuko</a> on Tumblr!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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